


Furst Coontect, Yah

by Sally M (sallymn)



Category: Muppet Show, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Humor, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallymn/pseuds/Sally%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another of those missions...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Furst Coontect, Yah

  
  
  
**Furst Coontect, Yah**   
  
  


"...Der ritt de gitt der gue, orn desh, dee born desh..."

"Yeah, backatcha." Colonel O'Neill superglued a smile on his face, and let his eyes do the talking to two of the three cultural specialists on this mission. "You two!" he hissed. "What the hell is it talking about?"

"How would I know?" Doctor Robert Rothman hissed back. "Most dead languages are too recent for me, Colonel, let alone living... if," he goggled at the bushy-haired-and-eyebrowed-and-mustached alien with the tomato-shaped head, squat body and ridiculous tall white hat, "if it's alive at all."

"It's doing a remarkably good impression," Doctor Bill Lee observed brightly, ducking as one of the knife-like implements the creature was tossing round with gleeful impunity nearly hit him. "And Major Carter did find life signs on the planet... of a sort." He shrugged and settled to watch Daniel, who was trying to make some sort of contact without being skewered as he approached the alien, who bobbed a little and gabbled on in that strange, fruity and deeply annoying voice.

"Rothman!!" O'Neill hissed again. "Then what the hell is Daniel trying to talk to it about?"

"I just said..." Rothman took a deep breath, and listened, his bearded Eeyore face taking on a faint, incredulous air. "Uhh... it does sound oddly... familiar, maybe the roots are still based on an earth -"

"Rothman!!!"

Daniel turned his head and glanced at Jack, then his fellow scientists, with that equally annoying air of patience. "I think I may have it, Jack - the syntax is all over the place, but..." he turned back to the alien, "my neme-a is duneeel jecksun, ve-a ere-a peecegool ixplurers frum a plunet celled iert."

"Thees is guud, guud! Yuoo hefe-a cume-a thruoogh zee Duur fur zee Greet Perty, yah?"

"Perty? Uh... yes, yah ooff cuoorse-a, ve-a vuoold be-a hunuoored boot ve-a deedn't breeng uny treeboote-a -"

"Zeere-a is plenty fur iferyune-a. Mooch cuukeeng und mooch ieteeng, boot ve-a furst moost shred zee geeunt telkeeng seeveed -"

"Geeunt.... you mean giant -?"

"Geeunt, beeg beeg beeg!!" The alien waved his big hands. " Und ell zee frooeet veell seeng fur soopper - yes, ve-a sedly hefe-a nu bununa - beffure-a ve-a shuut zeem fur ieteeng. Yuoo veell hefe-a zee hunuoor ooff shuuteeng zeem."

"Shooting -?" Rothman squawked, having caught on just a little.

"Singing frooeet - you mean fruit?" Lee quavered, having caught on a little earlier.

"Und zeen ve-a hefe-a zee mun-eeteeng fegetebles fur soopper, iff zeey du nut iet us furst. Yuoo hefe-a bruooght de bloonderbooss shooten, yah?"

"Oh yeah, I mean... off cuoorse-a." Daniel swallowed. "My leeder -" he indicated O'Neill and his rapidly congealing smile, "enjuys beeg bloonderbooss, zee beegger zee better."

Rothman snorted. Lee choked. Daniel looked at Jack innocently.

"Guud, guud. Cume-a, ve-a moost hoorry." The alien waved towards the clearing where a dozen others - taller, shorter, fatter, thinner, but all with those round heads, big noses and wild hair - and tall white hats - were waving knives and skewers and running around after various assorted - and definitely perambulating - fauna.

"Daniel...." O'Neill's soured face and sharp voice made it clear that being the only one in happy ignorance wasn't making him happy.

The three scientists all looked at each other, then at him, and with almost military precision, Rothman and Lee stepped back.

Daniel sighed. "He... the language appears to be a variant of one of my more obscure acquisitions, the construction is... anyway, I think it's MokSvedisch. Or a variation."

"Mock -"

"Y..yeah." For the first time, Daniel's voice wobbled. "And we've been invited to a... well, let's say a cookout."

"Mostly fruit," Lee agreed.

"And vegetables." Rothman nodded.

"And Jack," Daniel's eyes went past him, to something very large, very angry and very very... weedy, heading their way, "we may need your skills - like _right now_."

"Orn desh," the alien sang out, and all three Doctors winced, "dee born desh, de umn bork! bork! bork!"  


**\- the end -**

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's the Swedish Chef... I could neither resist nor tell at the start :)


End file.
